A/N: There is smutty stuff in here - so don't read if you don't want to see that stuff
Natasha was gone by the time Steve awoke the next morning. A note left on his kitchen counter read, "thank you, and I'm sorry," in curvy, flowing penmanship. Steve sighed, thinking of Natasha. He wanted to know if she was okay, or, not as bad as the night before because obviously she wasn't going to be okay just like that. However he knew her leaving before he woke up was her telling him, without using words, that she needed time to herself, so he would give it.
When they did see each other again, the very next day, actually, because Steve couldn't hold out for that long and had texted her that evening to check in, it was as he expected it to be. Natasha seemed withdrawn and like she was still having negative thoughts about herself that made her feel she wasn't good enough for him.
Actually, Natasha was still a bit hesitant around Steve for several days following their second date, but he tried his best to make her feel comfortable and valued. She kept herself at arm's length, physically, and Steve took this to be a boundary she was setting. For the time being, he complied and only touched her when she put herself close to him — he was following her lead.
Sometimes she really needed it — his warmth, and to know that he was still there — so she leaned into him for a hug or even a kiss on the forehead, and he willingly obliged.
Other times, she put noticeable space between them — those were the times she seemed very in her head, most likely listening to thoughts of how she was not good enough, and when Steve noticed her drifting off into her thoughts like that, he would reach out with just a gentle touch on the knee or arm, non-threatening but letting her know he was there, he hadn't left her, because she was good enough.
Those little actions helped, and as time passed, he could see Natasha winning the war inside herself. She smiled more, maintained eye contact with him for longer, and sought out his touch and conversation like she used to. It was even more of a testament to her amazingness that she essentially healed herself all on her own. Sure, Steve helped by being there, but the convincing was done within her own mind.
She hadn't seen as much of him as normal, though, due to his free period meetings with Kristen and her increasingly busy schedule as the end of the year approached. Before they both knew it, they were boarding the bus to leave for the senior retreat.
Natasha was already on the bus when Steve stepped in. She was sitting alone in the front, basically where the teachers were supposed to be sitting, and at the introspective look on her face, he didn't have the heart to move her.
He looked down the bus and saw Clint sitting close to Laura, and presumed that might be why Natasha seemed a little bluer than normal. The other teachers were taking their seats and soon the only one left available was next to Natasha. He looked around, pretending to look for another seat though he knew there were none. Sure enough, his fellow chaperones on that particular bus just shrugged at him, so he sat.
Natasha felt a body brush against hers and pulled her gaze away from the window to see who it was. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw it was Steve, and her features lifted into a little smile to reflect that as she scooted over a bit to make room, as a proper student would do when her teacher sat next to her.
Steve smiled too, then engaged her in a short, normal conversation.
"Ms. Romanoff," he nodded at her.
"Hi, Mr. Rogers," she returned, voice a bit softer and more forlorn than when they normally talked.
"Excited for the retreat?"
She nodded, taking note of one chaperone's head turned slightly towards them, as if listening to their conversation.
"Very. I think I definitely need it after the last month I've had. It'll be a good break, if nothing else." There, that was a normal student answer! And it wasn't a lie, either.
Steve chuckled. "Well, then I think you'll very much enjoy what we have planned for you."
Natasha smiled politely and took that for the end of the conversation that it was meant to be. They were so in tune with each other it was kind of ridiculous, at this point — even after not spending as much time together lately. They were both glad that aspect of their relationship was still intact.
The drive was quite long — almost four hours — and Natasha had been up late the previous night, working, because no, she hadn't quit her job. She simply couldn't afford to, unfortunately. That of course meant that she fell asleep not long into the drive — the gentle hum of the vehicle lulling her to sleep.
She chose the window as her pillow, not wanting to risk anything being seen sleeping on Steve's shoulder, but smiled to herself when she felt his hand brush her elbow, not worrying that someone could've seen that.
At some point, Natasha's body betrayed her and her head lolled to the side on a sharp turn of the bus to land precisely on Steve's shoulder. And there it stayed for the remainder of the drive.
Steve froze when he first felt her head lean onto him, not knowing what to do. His brain worked quickly, though, and he decided that in this instance, a normal teacher with his normal student would probably just let her rest, but not touch her. So he relaxed his body and then kept as still as possible, flipping through articles on his phone with his left hand, leaving his right arm for her to rest her head on.
A few chaperones did notice when they looked back to do their visual checks, lifting an eyebrow in a silent question, but Steve just gave them each a helpless look and his best lost, puppy dog eyes. It must've worked because they sent him sympathetic and understanding smiles back and didn't bring it up ever again. Just the role of being a teacher, that's why they understood, Steve told himself.
Still, he kept his eyes on them. So when they seemed to relax more, and the last time they checked on the students was 45 minutes before, he risked pulling Natasha a little bit closer and situating her in a more comfortable position. He let his hand brush her waist lightly and she hummed quietly, snuggling further into him. Steve glanced down to find a small smile gracing her features. She looked more peaceful than she had at all in the past week, and he found himself smiling softly at that realization. He was happy to see her free of her internal struggle, even if just for a little bit. Hopefully this would be the start to a healing three days.
He squeezed Natasha's knee to wake her up when they were getting close. The other chaperones were readying their packets and he didn't want her to panic in front of them — because he knew she would panic when she woke up leaning against him. And he wasn't wrong. She inhaled as she woke up and then sat up quickly when she was surrounded by the scent of Steve. She turned her head, peering up at him with wide eyes, scared and inquisitive at the same time. Steve returned her look calmly, trying to tell her not to worry.
He held her gaze, steadying her with just his eyes, then directed her eyes to the chaperones by shifting his in that direction. He then turned back to watch as she completed her inspection and could tell when she decided everything was okay. She let out a breath and her shoulders relaxed. Then she turned back to him and smiled, gaze a mix of soft and mischievous, before tucking her head down into his arm, where no one behind her could see, and pressed a kiss where she could reach.
Steve looked around quickly and quietly chuckled all at once. Before he could lean down to press a kiss into her hair, though, she had returned to her upright position, sitting a bit further away from him and looking out the window. However, he caught her stare through the reflection and saw a little smirk playing on her lips. He smiled in return before going to prepare his own materials before they arrived.
Suffice it to say, they were both very much looking forward to the next three days, and very happy the other was attending as well.
The retreat began and Natasha was swiftly swept up into the madness of collecting her things, getting her materials, finding her room, settling in, and then rushing back into the main meeting room.
She barely had time to think, let alone to feel sad or ashamed of herself, and when she sat and finally took a breath, she found herself actually feeling glad for that. She sat in the back of the sea of her fellow classmates on the floor and looked towards the front, where the chaperones were gathered, and immediately caught Steve's eyes. She smirked as she realized that meant he had definitely been staring at her already. Then the lead chaperone started talking and Steve was totally saved by the bell.
As it turned out, that kind of surveillance would become a pattern over the next three days. Once, when Steve was speaking in the kitchen, helping to cook and Natasha was sitting with Laura, trying to get to know her a bit better. But as she was listening to Laura speak, Natasha's eyes kept wandering over to Steve and she ended up staring at him for an extended moment before becoming aware of what she was doing. Steve could feel Natasha's eyes but never turned his head to meet her gaze.
It happened again when Natasha was sitting on the couch in the main room, curled up, reading a book, during their hour of free time. Steve had just come up the stairs to get some water after going for a run and nearly stopped in his tracks when he saw Natasha — curled into the couch, hair splayed out, the sunlight coming through the window making her look like a literal angel.
Natasha could feel Steve's stare even as he continued moving through the room to get to the kitchen, but there were a few other people in the room and so nothing could be done. She sighed and nearly looked over to Steve but stopped herself, instead pouting a little bit and then biting her lip just the way she knew Steve simultaneously loved and hated. It wasn't meant to tease — well, not totally — but she just wanted to let him know that she knew, that she understood, and was feeling the same way.
The next time was when everyone was sitting in a circle, sharing their reactions from a talk they'd just heard. Natasha was speaking, really trying to reach into her heart and get something out of this activity, and felt Steve's gaze boring into her. She continued after pausing for less than a second, not even glancing over at where she knew he was sitting, but she was sure her face was turning red — she could feel the heat rising on her cheeks as she spoke.
So she wrapped up and handed it over to the next person before the flush went too far and became too visible to everyone. Now that she was done talking, the urge to look at Steve became even stronger, but she resisted with all of her might. She didn't want to risk people seeing and coming to their own conclusion.
At the dining table over dinner and then breakfast the following morning, as conversation went on around them, they'd sneak glances at each other and actually ended up making eye contact a few times from across the table, which resulted in tiny smiles and light blushing each time. When they did catch each other's gazes, they held it for longer than was normal, because it was just too hard to look away. Each time felt like a secret, sacred few seconds and neither of them had the heart to ruin it. In fact the only reason they did was either because one of them came to their senses and broke the connection, or someone else got their attention.
Natasha helped with the dishes after breakfast and was acutely aware of Steve brushing past her or sliding behind her to put away the leftover food. The domesticity of it struck her and she almost dropped the dish she was washing when Steve whispered, "you look pretty good in the kitchen" as he leaned next to her to place a dish into the sink, purposefully brushing his fingers against hers as he did so.
A vision of the two of them some years from now, doing the same thing, in the same exact position, came unbidden into her mind's eye as he said that, and by the time she shook herself out of it, he was long gone and the water was turning cold against her hands.
It was getting to be too much for her, and something needed to be done if she wanted to make it through the rest of the retreat.
Luckily, before lunch that day, another chaperone sent her and Steve to get more utensils and plates from the other cabin. Natasha tried to maintain her distance from Steve, aware of how on edge she was, and was practicing deep breathing the entire way over to calm herself. As soon as Steve shut the door behind them — and locked it, if Natasha heard correctly — her personal space was suddenly being crowded from behind. She could feel Steve's warmth, which was nice, but not his body, so she turned around to fix that.
In one coordinated motion, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him with all the feelings she'd been pushing down for the last 36 hours. They both sighed at finally making physical contact, and smiled into the kiss. Steve's arms came to wrap around her waist and he pulled her infinitely closer, growling a little as he did so, making Natasha giggle.
Eventually they pulled away for air and as Steve brushed his fingers through Natasha's hair, she buried her face in his chest, inhaling deeply and soaking up this brief moment of respite for all it was worth. They stayed that way until Steve decided they'd stalled long enough and people would start wondering about them, soon. He tilted her chin up with his finger and leaned down to kiss her one last time, running his fingers down her arm as he pulled away.
"Come on, we've gotta get this stuff back soon or people are going to get suspicious," he intertwined their fingers and pulled her close as they walked to the kitchen. It was enough for now, they both thought as they went about their designated task.
It did seem to calm that initial desperation, but by the end of the day, they were both antsy once again.
While this retreat was doing them both some good, it was also tougher than they'd expected to be in the same vicinity as each other but not be able to be close like they normally were.
But it wasn't just physical. There was this pull, this increasingly strong desire to be near each other simply because they were used to sharing everything with one another. And that's what they were missing, being deprived of, more than anything — the conversations and whispered words that both displayed and built trust and intimacy.
That feeling carried into the evening and held Natasha back from rest when it was bedtime. She tossed and turned for many minutes, trying to sleep, but to no avail. After multiple attempts, she gave up and decided to take action.
Channeling her inner spy, Natasha quietly got out of bed and tiptoed out of the room, all the way to the front door, and snuck out, softly shutting the door behind her.
She made her way to the main cabin, where she knew Steve was staying, and walked around the perimeter, looking through the windows until she spotted him. Finally, she did, and thanked whatever gods were above that his room was on the bottom floor. The window was open a little, probably to let in cool air because she knew how hot he got when he slept. But tonight, it was serving as her perfect way in.
She jumped up and balanced herself on the window sill, nudging the window open with her foot a little more, and then she maneuvered her body to slide inside, landing with a soft thud. First she turned back to shut the curtains, making a note to tell Steve to be more conscious of that — she didn't want people looking in on him as he slept, after all. Then she made her way to his bed, climbed in next to his sleeping form and smiled when he immediately shifted and pressed his face into her neck, throwing an arm around her waist at the same time.
She turned her neck to pepper his face with kisses, smiling as he hummed when she ran a hand through his hair. Natasha exhaled, finally feeling like everything was as it should be. Apparently it was a bit too loud, because then Steve's eyelashes were blinking against her skin and he was sleepily uttering her name in a question. "Nat?"
She hummed as she continued running her fingers through his hair and had to stifle a chuckle when he abruptly pulled away and up to look at her. "What are you doing here?" He asked, much more awake and alert now.
Natasha just smiled. "I missed you," she shrugged like it was nothing.
Steve breathed out a chuckle that sounded more like a sigh at the end. "I've been here, Nat."
Natasha's demeanor transitioned into a less playful one and she quietly responded, "I know you have."
Though he may have just been talking about the last few days, Natasha was thinking of all the time that had passed since the night of her breakdown. She knew she'd been keeping Steve at a distance, and that he wasn't expecting that, especially after the adoration he'd shown her body and how she'd responded so enthusiastically. But this was something she had to deal with on her own, a battle to fight in her own mind.
However, she couldn't have had the courage and strength to do that if Steve hadn't been there for her, believed in her, told her that she was good in the first place. And she knew he probably would be feeling like he hadn't been much help, because she hadn't acknowledged it, which made her feel even worse about the whole thing. So suddenly her mission for the night became to convince him that he had been — to say thank you.
As Steve laid back down next to her, she turned to face him and brushed her knuckles down the side of his face in a gentle motion. Then she locked her eyes with his and let her emotion show through as she whispered, "I know you've been here, Steve." A shaky breath escaped her and she closed her eyes for a moment before returning them to gaze into his. "Thank you."
Steve smiled softly and his eyes flitted around her face before he responded, pride filling his voice, "I didn't do anything, Nat. You did this all on your own."
Natasha immediately shook her head and Steve's lips lifted up in a more amused smile, this time, but one that was still heavy with emotion. "I didn't, though. I never would've been able to get past this without you, Steve. So let me thank you." And before he could protest anymore, she was pressing her lips against his in a tender kiss.
Steve let himself get lost in it — trying to memorize the feel of everything Natasha — her lips, her tongue, her scent, the feel of her breath as it puffed against his face when they finally separated. His eyes were closed, dazed and amazed, and Natasha took advantage of it. In a flash, her lips were trailing down his jaw to where it met his neck, leave a fiery blaze in their wake. Steve was so surprised that a choked sound left him before he could stop it.
Natasha grinned against his skin and doubled down her efforts, more determined than ever before to express her emotions through this method. She took her time learning him, testing him to find out what and where he wanted her. She nipped at the tender flesh on his neck at his pulse point and felt more than heard Steve let out a harsh breath. Taking internal note of that, she soothed the area with her tongue and continued downward.
She let her instinct take control, kissing gently then biting but not hard enough to leave any marks — she was still aware of where they were. Steve was breathing heavily by the time she made it to his collarbone. She rolled over to straddle him and pushed him back by his shoulders when he leaned up to touch her. This was about him.
Steve looked like he was about to protest so she sent him her best un-moving look. His eyes, which were already blown wide, visibly darkened. Natasha took that as a sign. She flashed him a smirk and ducked her head to suck at his adams apple as it bobbed when he swallowed thickly.
She could feel the groan vibrate against her throat and she swiped her tongue across it before lifting her head to shush him gently. She pecked his lips then whispered before he could speak, "remember where we are," and swiftly returned to her previous position. As she leaned over his collarbone, mouthing kisses over it, her hair fell over her and Steve giggled softly as the ends tickled his skin.
Natasha paused for a moment to look at him with an amused, surprised grin. He blushed but took advantage of her brief break and lifted his head up to kiss her soundly, grinning through it at his own cleverness and then the feel of Natasha giving into it. He let go, though, when he needed to breathe, and plopped his head back down with a dopey grin adoring his features.
Natasha just chuckled and shook her head, hands moving to the hem of his shirt and then up and under it, fingertips mapping the skin there. Before long, she was tugging it up and over his head, with his help of course. When it was free and clear, she had to pause just to take in the image of him. She'd seen it before, yes, but never really felt like she had so much time to explore. And explore she did.
Her fingertips danced across his chest and pressed in at the dips of his chiseled abdomen. She followed Steve's choked noise at that and kissed and licked with the tip of her tongue all across his upper body. She could feel as Steve tightened his muscles, trying to retain control of himself, against her lips, and she smirked just before she moved lower, pressing a kiss to one side of the V-shaped dip formed by his hip bone. Her tongue swirled lower and her fingers had almost reached the hem of his boxers when Steve stopped her with a hand on her arm.
"Natasha," he sounded rather breathless, but commanding nonetheless. She lifted her head just enough to quirk an eyebrow at him, to which he continued, "Tasha, wait. You don't have to. ..I don't —"
She cut him off with a gentle kiss and made sure he could see the sincerity in her eyes when she said, "I want to do this, Steve. Let me do this for you." Upon hearing the almost pleading tone in her voice, Steve conceded, promising himself he would return the favor and he wouldn't let this be a one-sided thing.
Not hearing any further protest from him and unwilling to wait any longer, brimming with a slew of emotions ranging from excitement to apprehension to contentedness at having found her place, Natasha hooked her thumbs around the top band of his boxers and pulled them down in one coordinated motion.
The sight of Steve lying before her was something Natasha never could've imagined. He really was just as beautiful as he was kind. She couldn't resist running her palm down the length of him — staring in awe at the way his muscles tensed and released in a steady pulse at the contact.
She sat for a moment, simply admiring the view, before a tiny noise from Steve prompted her back into action. She pressed little kisses to the sides that had Steve biting his lip to refrain from making any noticeable sounds. He kept his eyes open and trained on her, though, refusing to look away no matter how much he wanted to shut his eyes and lose himself to the sensations.
But then Natasha flattened her tongue and licked a wet stripe up one side to suck lightly on his balls and Steve let out a gasp, taken by surprise and unable to stop it. Natasha stopped immediately and peered down at him, waiting until he looked more in control before returning to run her tongue along the other side of him.
Steve was glad he'd had that chance to silence himself because before he knew it, Natasha was closing her mouth around his now-swollen, reddened tip and swirling her tongue wherever she could reach. He almost shouted but refrained, instead letting out this low, guttural sound in the base of his throat.
He could feel Natasha's small smirk against his skin before she took him in even deeper and began to back off slowly, repeating the motion to create a pattern of bobbing her head. She followed his lead and started moving faster when he became thicker in her mouth and more breathy in sound. Her teeth accidentally scraped Steve on one pull back and he let out only the first bit of a high-pitched moan before Natasha hushed him by smothering his lips with hers.
Natasha moved back down to resume her actions but only got so far as one long and wet lick upwards when Steve was whining again. She looked up while taking him in her hand and squeezing slightly, feeling Steve throbbing and hot against her skin. And then, still watching him, wanting to see his face, read the emotions in his features, she moved her hand up, then down. Steve's eye's widened and darkened infinitely more at the same time as she felt a bit of moisture leak onto her hand.
Suddenly she understood. She leaned further over Steve, her hair providing a curtain to the outside world as she kissed him soundly. His lips moved against hers desperately and she picked up the pace with her hand. She brushed her lips across his jaw, making her way to his ear where she whispered, "I've got you, babe."
She felt Steve's forehead press into her neck and decided to stay where she was, letting him have this. As she flicked her wrist and increased the pressure, and thus the friction, Steve's hips bucked and his breathing became more labored in her ear. She continued, easing off every few strokes to give him a break but returning with gusto. With each motion, Steve pressed his lips (and sometimes teeth) into Natasha's skin to keep from making too much sound, and she was sure that she would have a bruise there tomorrow, but truthfully, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
She decided she'd tortured Steve enough and scratched her fingernails lightly up the length of him, causing Steve to buck his hips wildly and moan into her skin. Then she grasped him and moved with ever more purpose. Steve was practically thrusting into her hand at this point and audibly panting into her ear. She paused, licked her hand, and returned to her movement.
And then Steve became a mess of sweat and motion and muttering. "Natasha, N'tasha, Tasha, Tash, Tashhh, Nat, ohfuckohfuckohfuck, fuck Nat, please, Tasha, Talia. Natalia—" he had a moment of clarity and blinked his eyes open in a split second just before she tugged one last time and he fell apart in her hands.
White, hot liquid spurted up and onto Natasha's shirt as she worked Steve through his release and then down from it, peppering soft kisses all across his face, neck, collarbone.
Steve shuddered at her continued but slowing ministrations, and when he regained control of his movements, he pulled her in for a deep kiss — one that had her threading her fingers through his hair and bringing herself closer. When they pulled away they were both wearing soft but wide and genuine smiles. Natasha couldn't help but look one more time down the length of his body, admiring what she had access to, and then she caught sight of Steve's slightly sticky mess and chuckled.
"What?" Steve asked, still fairly dazed or maybe he was just sleepy.
"Nothing," Natasha smiled and shook her head, "just going to need a new shirt to wear to bed."
Then Steve looked down and at least appeared a little sheepish when he saw what she was referring to. "Whoops," and then his mischievous sexy little smile popped up. "Maybe you'll just sleep in no shirt at all," he said, that expression never leaving his face, before he moved both hands to grasp the shirt. Then he locked eyes with Natasha and pulled, effectively ripping the shirt in two and tossing the pieces across the room. Natasha squealed, though still careful to be quiet, "Steve!"
He just grinned and leaned up to kiss her, pulling her down into him before rolling them both so they were on their sides. His arms wrapped tight around Natasha, keeping her warm and safe and enclosed. She practically melted into him and snuggled up closer, shimmying until she was completely pressed against him. Then she let out this content little sigh and Steve pulled the covers up over both of them.
"You know I can't stay here the whole night…" Natasha mumbled against his skin.
"I know," he kissed the top of her head, "but at least for a little bit."
"Mkay," he heard her respond.
Then Steve tightened his embrace. "Thank you," he said in the most sincere voice she'd ever heard anyone use in her entire life. "You're incredible."
She just smiled against his chest in response and rested her head more against him. Steve smiled in turn and they drifted off to sleep, the warmth that now filled both of them pulling them under.
When the sun rose, Steve gently removed himself from Natasha's embrace and retrieved a t-shirt from his duffel bag. He pulled it over her head and maneuvered her arms through it, then picked her up bridal-style, placing one of her arms around his neck. She woke up slightly at all the movement and Steve whispered to calm her, "I'm just taking you back to your cabin. You're going to have to tell me which room is yours." She nodded against his shoulder.
A few minutes later, Steve was shutting the door softly behind him and tip-toeing through the cabin to Natasha's room. He tucked her into bed and pressed one last kiss on her forehead. He turned in the doorway to find her already fallen back asleep, with a small smile on her face. Steve didn't think his left his own face for the rest of the day.
The next morning at breakfast made it apparent that they were now in an undeniably different, new, amazing place, because they couldn't quite keep their eyes off each other. However, Natasha made a concerted effort not to get caught looking at Steve. That didn't mean she didn't look at him — because that couldn't be helped, after the night before — but she just tried to be less obvious about it. She would glance over at him but then quickly turn away.
Steve, it seemed, was not trying at all. He probably thought he was — she chuckled at that thought— but she could feel his eyes on her no matter what they were both doing. He was much more drawn out about it.
He just kind of gazed after her as she smiled shyly and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear in conversation with someone she didn't know very well.
Natasha would be helping cut fruit for breakfast, and she felt his gaze from where he was flipping pancakes on the stove. She walked away to wash her hands, he followed her with his eyes. She was sitting across from him at one of the smaller circular tables, listening to another teacher talk; she could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of her face. She laughed at something Clint said, next to her, and she could see out of the corner of her eye how Steve's features transformed into a soft smile, in turn, as he watched her. He seemed to be unable to take his eyes off her.
She glanced at him a few times and found him, well, starry-eyed was the only good way to describe it; and maybe turned on, too, if his slightly glazed over and darkened pupils were anything to go by. He had this soft little smile on his face and blushed when he realized she'd caught him. He was just too in awe and filled with wonderful memories of the previous night not to gaze at her.
So in the end, it seemed that it didn't matter what she did, because someone noticed anyway — damn Steve and his staring.
As they were dismissed to go pack up their things after breakfast, Clint approached Natasha just as she was about to open the front door to return to her own cabin.
"Barton," she greeted as he jogged up to meet her.
"Nat, I gotta talk to you." The serious look on his face scared Natasha a little but she covered with a bit of humor, as always.
"What's wrong, Clint? Someone find your stash of arrows that I know you brought with you?" she teased.
"Wha — no. I didn't —" Clint shook his head, "that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." Without giving her a chance to speak again, he continued, "I think you need to watch out for Mr. Rogers."
Natasha was visibly stunned, blinking as her mind went racing. With all the fears that ran through her head, all she could get out was a baffled, "what?"
"I know you really look up to him and see him as a mentor or whatever, but…" Clint looked down, beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable as Natasha just stared on, still a bit stunned, "I noticed him staring at you, Nat," he glanced back up at her, "a lot. Like multiple times in the last two days. Like he wants to devour you or something and I just.. I know that look, Nat, and I just want you to be careful."
Natasha sighed and smiled softly at her friend, touched that he cared so much about her. "Don't worry, Clint," she squeezed his arm, "I'm sure he was just spacing out or something. I feel safe around him." At his look of argument, she continued before he could open his mouth, "but if I ever don't, you know I can take care of myself." She gave him a pointed look and he sighed.
"I know you can, Tasha. I just.. I worry about you, you know that."
"And I've told you you shouldn't. But thank you for the concern, really." She gathered him in a hug to really get her point across and smiled as she felt Clint return her embrace. It was good to be with her best friend like this.
When they pulled apart, Clint had a genuine smile on his face. "I'm just trying to protect you. Gotta fulfill my older brother role, you know," he joked as he slung an arm around her shoulders and they walked out the door.
Natasha laughed and elbowed him in the ribs, "you're younger than me, idiot," she teased.
"Yeah, but more mature," Clint argued.
"Ha! You wish," Natasha scoffed and Clint chuckled.
"Okay, okay, fine." He lifted his arm from her as he opened the door for her with a flourish.
She gave him a look to which he responded, "what? Just doing my duty holding the door open for a little old lady." He winked and Natasha shoved him even as she smiled.
"Jerk. Go get your stuff together Barton."
Clint smiled, "See you later, Tasha."
She smiled as she shut the door behind her but as soon as she plopped onto her bed, a heavy sigh escaped her. She reached for her phone immediately before remembering they'd all given them up at the beginning of the retreat. Cursing silently, she decided she'd just have to find a way to talk to Steve in person sometime that day.
The only problem was — Natasha and Steve weren't left alone at all that day. She had him alone in a hallway for a second and then another chaperone joined them, and her opportunity was gone.
Even when they were on the bus later that day, they didn't get to sit together again — Natasha was next to a girl she'd seen only a few times and Kristen was occupying the seat to Steve's right. So she had to settle for the only thing she could think of — they'd been given their phones back as they boarded the bus, so she pulled hers out and texted him what she knew would get his attention.
Steve felt his phone buzz in his hand and glanced down to see Natasha's name on his phone. He resisted the urge to turn around and went to open the message when a voice sounded from his right, "your girlfriend?"
He stopped himself from opening the message just in time to see Kristen peering down at the screen. Shit, that must mean she saw Nat's name, he thought. He let his thumb hover over the screen before falling back.
"Oh, yeah," Steve gave his best small, almost sheepish grin.
Kristen nodded, albeit a little slowly. She was suspicious once again. Steve of course noticed, and used his best Natasha skills as he conjured up a story and spoke again. "She's a dancer in New York, so we don't get to see each other very often," he forced his eyes to become a bit sad before continuing, "but it's coming up on our anniversary so we're planning a trip somewhere."
The story was so believable, because every good lie has a seed of truth, that Kristen accepted it. That, coupled with Steve's wide-ranged show of emotions, had her letting go of her suspicions once and for all. She smiled, "well that sounds like it'll be a great time." Steve returned her smile with one of his own and she turned to look out the window, effectively ending the conversation, meaning Steve could finally open the message.
Clint noticed.
Steve was amazed he didn't drop the phone but he was sure he stopped breathing for a moment.
Noticed, what, exactly? he texted back.
This morning, he told me to watch out for you. That he noticed you staring at me
Then another message came before he could even argue back on his own behalf
Which I know you were. I could feel it. Don't try to deny it, Natasha said, complete with an expression that mirrored her own - 😏
After that, Natasha saw the three dots appear, then disappear, then a pause and they reappeared and finally a response from Steve.
Well sorry if I can't help it that my girlfriend is stunning and wonderful 😛
Natasha rolled her eyes but felt her chest warm, nonetheless. You just have to be so smooth, don't you? she responded.
She heard Steve chuckle and smiled to herself. Last I remember, you liked smooth ;)
Oh my god. Is this how it's going to be now?
Oh yes, it is.
She was about to respond telling him how ridiculous he was when another message came through. Sorry, gotta go. Chap stuff. Talk later
She looked up to see, indeed, the chaperones were starting to gather, and then back down at her phone when it buzzed with another text.
It was just the stupid kiss-blowing emoji, but even as she rolled her eyes, she smiled.
A/N: whew that was long. nearly 7k words, holy guacamole. but please, I really want to know what you all thought of this one - smut is not my forte so suggestions and opinions are very welcome. thanks for reading!